


Glances at the Wedding Feast

by FalovesPa



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, NSFW, Wedding Night Sex, wedding night love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-22
Updated: 2014-03-22
Packaged: 2018-01-16 14:54:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1351549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FalovesPa/pseuds/FalovesPa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You and your new husband are enjoying the wedding celebration with all your family and friends, but you can't wait for these festivities to end and the private one to begin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Glances at the Wedding Feast

**Author's Note:**

> This was an experiment to get across the energy/tension between these newlyweds in under 300 words. Please let me know what you think (this is also found on my supercoolkitty.tumblr.com page). Thanks.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Glances at the Wedding Feast: You and your new husband are enjoying the wedding celebration with all your family and friends, but you can't wait for these festivities to end and the private one to begin.

You cannot take your eyes off him.

The grand hall is overflowing with wedding guests, roasted meats, loaves of bread, and vessels of various libations on every table. Thorin stands across the room talking with friends, but he feels your attention on him, and returns the stare.

Heat bursts through your skin. You remind yourself to keep your composure, at least until later, when you are finally alone with him. You smile at the thought, then force yourself to briefly look away, to embrace relatives who have come to celebrate this glorious day.

When you look again, he’s not there. You lose him in the sea of faces.

Suddenly, you feel his massive hand tickle the small of your back. His lips are against your hair, his breath warm on your ear. His long locks fall on your shoulder.

You’re about to turn around, to beg him to take you out of here. Now.

But you don’t get the chance. Your drunken aunt scoops you happily into her robust arms – again — wishing you a happy life and many babies.

Others follow, offering blessings.

He is gone.

You search wildly for him. The music swells.

The room begins to pulse with lively dancing and singing. You are swept into a dizzying circle of toe-tapping, thigh-slapping and arm-linking. 

That’s when you find him.

He is across from you in the circle, laughing, clapping, awkwardly moving to the music. You’ve never seen him so happy, so carefree.

He sees you. You both keep dancing, but your gazes are locked. You undress each other, lick, suck and taste each other, thrust, squeeze, and ride.

In this crowded room of happy music, flowing wine and good cheer, it is just the two of you, king and queen, on your wedding night.


	2. "Be Ready for Me"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If your new husband wants you to "be ready" for him on your wedding night, he must have something sweet in store.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is another drabble that's on my Tumblr site, a continuation of "Glances at the Wedding Feast," but for AO3 I added some more detail because I was "feeling it." Please let me know your thoughts.

You change from beaded, ornate wedding dress to a simple, sheer lavender gown and wait for Thorin in his chamber, which is now also yours. Loved ones have left the festivities, but counselors and other kings remain, forever talking business. Thorin promises to be prompt. 

“Be ready for me,” he whispers, and you feel a flutter in the pit of your stomach in anticipation. 

As you sit anxiously on the bed -- adorned in handwoven silk sheets in soft gold hues -- you feel the mingled effects of wine and exhaustion finally taking you over. After all, you've been up since before dawn, and now it's well after midnight. Given the intensity of the discussions Thorin was involved in, you figure he will be at least another forty-five minutes --enough time for you to catch a quick rest. 

You lie down on the plush nest of rich bedding, a wedding gift for you commissioned by Thorin. You adore it, of course, but can't wait for him to see the surprise gift that you had delivered to the chamber during the festivities -- several luxurious pelts, just for the bed. 

Not that you'll need them for warmth on this night, you think, a sly smile spreading across your face as you drift off.

It only seems like a few moments have floated by when you feel a fluttering between your legs. 

It's the beginning of a delicious dream, you think.

But soon you are aware that you are leaving your slumber, and with that realization, the sensation becomes more intense. 

Your eyes open, and see your long gown pushed up over your hips. There is Thorin, naked, licking you tenderly, his hands firm on your hips.

You reach down to caress his beard, and at your touch he peers mischievously at you before closing his eyes and moving his strong tongue in slow, precise circles. You take both hands and lose them in his flowing mane as your hips roll to his rhythm. He enjoys tasting you as much as you enjoy him doing it, and as he feels your pleasure increasing, his hands grip you tighter. 

His tongue dances in you -- sliding, dipping, gliding, and your body is a willing partner. 

You hate for the experience to end, but your husband is bringing you closer to heaven. You arch your back, throw your hands behind your head on the bed and call out, unsure of what you’re even saying. You buck savagely during your climax, every muscle contracting.

As you come down -- gently, slowly -- his fervent licks return to a flutter, and then he pulls back, massaging his mouth and wet beard on your thigh. Flame in his eyes, he moves on top of you. 

You are eager to disrobe, but he stops you. Through the transparent fabric, he plants a path of kisses from navel to nipples to mouth. He enters you, pumping you long and deep, his thrusts increasingly rough against your still-quivering thighs. He never takes his beautiful eyes off yours, even after he bursts inside you. 

You lose control again, writhing beneath him. Another jumbled collection of unknown words spills from your mouth as he hits every sensual part with expert precision.

A tear slides down your face, and you wipe it quickly, hoping he doesn’t see, doesn’t misunderstand. The truth is this: You never thought you could fall more deeply in love with Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain, until right now.


End file.
